


Heat

by FortuneFaded2012



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Amortentia, Arguing, F/M, Snogging
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-14
Updated: 2018-08-16
Packaged: 2019-01-17 05:47:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12358776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FortuneFaded2012/pseuds/FortuneFaded2012
Summary: Hermione Granger has seriously underestimated the fiery capacity of her arguments with Draco Malfoy. The heat has elevated and she's not sure how to smother the blaze.





	1. Heat

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Originally this was a one shot that was written to work through a bit of writer's block. It now has a second chapter and will likely have a third.

She had rushed out of the Transfiguration classroom and quickly weaved her way through passages and hallways in an effort to be alone. Malfoy had infuriated her enough that she had embarrassed herself in front of the entire class. She huffed angrily as she entered the passage that held one portrait of Helga the Passionate. She came here sometimes when she needed to cool off, alone. There was a solitary window here, where she could perch on the ledge and peer down at the lake below. Watching the water always seemed to calm her.

She dropped her satchel of books at the base of the window and was just bending forward to climb onto the ledge, when she heard forceful steps approaching. She glanced toward the sound and felt the anger swell anew. Malfoy was stalking down the passage with a sneer on his thin face.

Hermione growled and pulled back from the ledge. "What do you want you revolting slug?"

"How can such a know-it-all be so brainless at the same time, Granger?" He snarled back.

"You're such an arrogant loathsome little cockroach. I have more intellect in one brain-cell than you have in that entire horrible little mind of yours." She stepped toward him, determined to stand her ground during the barrage of insults that they were likely to throw at each other. Her body was rising with fury, still out of breath from the rush of her hasty journey to the passage.

In an instant Draco forced her against the wall, his smooth hawthorn wand pressed into the notch at the base of her throat. His eyes pierced hers and his breath fanned her face in harsh angry puffs. Her own breaths came in heavy pants, her chest rising and falling rapidly, her nostrils flared with fury.

"You've no idea how you get under my skin, witch," he said, voice quietly forceful. He pressed harder against her, venom pouring into his gaze.

She could smell his very essence and it occurred to her that she never knew his scent before. It was pleasant in an oddly intoxicating way, sharp cologne that held a softer undertone. She distantly registered that it was akin to Angelica or Tea Tree. Hermione quickly forgot what they had been arguing over as her focus shifted to his proximity and the heat of his body. All thought dissipated and the only things in existence were his mercury eyes and the pressure of that hawthorn wand against her skin. She could feel the hum and warmth of magic at the tip.

Her cheeks warmed into blush, a slow burn that crept across her skin. Draco dropped his gaze to her cheeks, then to the open collar of her shirt. She glanced down, remembering that she had opened the top few buttons in the warmth of the Transfiguration classroom. She had also forgone her sweater vest this morning, knowing that the summer heat of the castle could be stifling.

Her breasts were just visible as they rapidly rose and fell. Hermione's blush grew fiery with the realization that he was focused on this intimate part of her. Draco slowly trailed the tip of his wand up her neck, raising her chin to him.

Their eyes connected with a magnetic pull. The anger was gone from his mercury gaze, replaced by the heady look of desire. His cheeks, normally devoid of color, held a slight rosy hew. Hermione inhaled sharply, her mouth falling open.

Draco bit his plump bottom lip and suddenly she could feel the tip of his wand trailing back down her neck, running along the sharp bones of her clavicle and dipping into the valley between her breasts. Her own vine wood wand hung limply at her side, nearly falling from her loose grasp.

She whimpered as the magic in his wand seemed to pulse against her in a staccato beat. Its warmth skimmed over the round tops of her breasts, pulling the shirt collar open further. She closed her eyes and unceremoniously dropped her wand, which had sent a sharp jolt of heated magic into her palm as goosebumps had arisen across her entire body. The clatter of her wand reverberated against the stone walls of the empty corridor. A second later Draco's wand rattled to the floor alongside hers.

He closed the small gap between their bodies. His cool hands roughly grasped her cheeks, sliding along her scorching skin. Their lips melded together with a flowing give and take of pressure and warmth, as his long chilly fingers framed her face. Hermione's hands betrayed her, grasping at his robes to pull him flush against her.

He moaned softly and she took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, sliding her tongue along his bottom lip and stroking into his hot mouth. One of her traitorous hands slid up his back and into the nape of his soft hair. His palms smoothed down her neck, over her shoulders and around to the small of her back.

Draco pulled away from her mouth, moving his lips in heated kisses across her right cheek and down the slope of her neck, to the crook of her shoulder. Hermione released another gasp, letting her head fall back heavily against the wall to give him access to more skin. She breathed in his scent Tea Tree, Angelica, and Mint. It made her sigh.

Her eyes opened and she took in the dim light of the corridor, particles of dust floating around the only window nearby. Draco's lips trailed down to her right breast, kissing the mound softly as one of his hands rose to her left breast. He cupped her through the fabric, kneading the flesh beneath in a way that sent a jolt to Hermione's core.

"Draco – what are we doing?" Hermione whimpered as he devoured every bit of flesh within reach of his lips. He glanced up at her words, an expression of heavy-lidded satisfaction on his face. Hermione shivered as the air met the damp skin of her chest.

"I've - no – idea," Draco responded, pressing three quick pecks against her lips to punctuate each word.

She nipped at his lips with her teeth. "I hate you Malfoy. This is insane."

He smirked in response, settling her bottom lip sharply between his own teeth before soothing the bite with his tongue. He pressed his lips against her ear, as his hands trailed almost gentle fingers down her sides. "Hate me harder Granger. It's not working."

She released a shaky breath, capturing his lips in a bruising kiss and digging her nails into his silky hair. It was so fine; it almost reminded her of downy feathers. She wondered how someone could be so hard and soft at the same time. Everything about him was juxtaposed.

They moaned in unison as he pressed her even more sharply into the stones at her back, their warmth combining deliciously in the sticky heat of empty spaces beyond. As he moved his lips along her hairline and dipped them behind her ear, she struggled to remember just why this was wrong.

"I hate you Malfoy," she reiterated in a vehement whisper.

Draco's harsh breath caused a shiver to spring up her back as he responded, "If you hate me more, I'll only want you more and we'll be right back here fighting and snogging against the wall in an empty passageway."

His words held an edge of sobering truth and she shook her head before forcing her palms to press against his chest. She felt the buzz of reality creeping into her foggy brain. She quickly stepped to the side, knees quaking as she bent to recover her wand. She stood, leaning heavily on the stone beside her. His eyes pierced hers and she felt weak under his gaze.

"You don't want a mudblood like me," she hissed accusingly. "You don't know what you're saying. Hormones talking. Vicious tempers flaring. This won't happen again, Malfoy."

He bit out a laugh at her words, bending down to grasp his own forgotten wand. She noted that his lips were roughly red and swollen and wondered at the appearance of her own. A strange feeling jolted in her stomach, would everyone know what she had just been doing with her biggest rival? For a moment he just stared at her and his gaze was so impenetrable she had to look away. She focused on the scuffed toe of her right Mary-Jane.

In the near silence of the deserted corridor she could hear him swallow heavily. "Keep lying to yourself Granger. I know what I just felt and you can deny 'til pigs fly. I always get what I want in the end," he drawled before turning to saunter down the hall and out of sight.

Hermione slid to the floor, bracing her arms against her knees. Her hands were shaking slightly and there was a tingling in her chest. What had she been thinking? She reprimanded herself for her own stupidity and tried to replay how they had found themselves in this situation. She couldn't even explain it to herself. Nor could she explain the way her blood pulsed with need at the thought of his burning lips and icy fingers. She sighed and ran a hand over her face in disbelief.


	2. Fever

The feel of Malfoy's wand, his magic, his hands, his heat, his lips; it preoccupied her for days. She'd never noticed how often their paths crossed, perhaps because she previously resolutely ignored his every move. Now he seemed to be everywhere and in each moment that she caught sight of him, her heart sprang an unexpected jolting rhythm.

She began to dread the classes he was in. If he sat in front of her, her attention drew to him more often than not. If he sat behind her, she anxiously wondered whether he was watching her. It annoyed her to no end. Mostly though, she felt annoyed at herself. What had she been thinking? Kissing Malfoy… _preposterou_ s.

At times, she wondered if it was a horrible dream she'd had, but then she'd catch him watching her in return. That was the flame that would burn her stomach with knots. Those mercury eyes petrified her. The sharp focus of his gaze bit into her skin, causing a flush that prickled and burned with its haste.

Fear of a repeat performance was strong. Being with him again would only lead to trouble, a host of related complications, and a crushing guilt. Yet, somehow she still longed for it in a sickeningly desperate way.

After a month, the stress of it seemed to fade with the normality of her daily studies. Ignoring his presence became easier, as it ought to. She thought that the event was something she could throw into the recesses of her mind; hide it in a dark mental closet perhaps. She could lock the memory away and intentionally lose the key. Hermione thought it was a secure way to ignore it all, even if the intoxicating way he made her feel still surged in her belly.

* * *

She was late for Potions due to an unexpected meeting with Professor McGonagall. Being late always made her anxious.

"Ah, Miss Granger, better late than never. Come in, come in," Professor Slughorn roared cheerfully as she entered.

Hermione quickly dropped her satchel by her favorite potions work-station. The other students were assembled around the potion master's station. There was a potion bubbling softly in a small cauldron, likely under a stasis charm. The students were standing rather close together, so Hermione had to shoulder her way in to stand with Ron and Harry. They both gave her a quick smile.

Professor Slughorn began talking about the potion's ingredients and the brewing techniques. Hermione let out a quiet sigh; she needed to clear her head. The longer she stood there, the more she felt a strange itchiness. An urge to do something, but she didn't know what exactly.

Ron was scratching the crown of his head beside her, his face muddled with a bit of confusion as he leaned closer to the potion. Hermione lowered her eyes to the cauldron, half listening to the professor as he whirred on about ingredient variations. She stared on the swirling mist in front of her. The mixture had a pale sparkling effect in a mother-of-pearl luster. _Amortentia_ , she realized. She glanced around the huddled students. Everyone was leaning in slightly, faces glowing and rosy. Harry's hair was getting wilder in the presence of the potion before them. Of course that meant that hers would be growing larger and frizzier by the minute. Hermione bent forward, staring at the bubbling brew with a mixture of nervousness and interest realizing that it was likely the thing that was causing the odd feelings within her.

"Everything alright?" Harry asked in a whisper, interrupting her mental catalogue of Amortentia characteristics.

"Yes, just had a quick discussion with McGonagall on Prefect duties," she assured him, turning back to the potion quickly.

"Who can tell us the properties and effects of the Amortentia potion?" Professor Slughorn asked gleefully as he addressed the group.

Hermione's hand shut up nearly before she registered the question. The potions master nodded to her with an eager smile. She quickly answered, "Amortentia has swirling spirals of steam, a mother-of-pearl sheen, and smells differently to each person according to what we find attractive. When brewed and given to an unsuspecting person it can cause a potent obsession or infatuation with the individual who brewed it. It is dangerous and powerful."

"Correct! 10 points to Gryffindor for an excellent explanation and you are correct to call it dangerous, obsessive love can cause a person to do truly horrific things. In some cases brewing Amortentia can not only cause obsession in the person who drinks it, but also in the person who brews it," Slughorn said, his voice filled with a false gravity that barely concealed his glee on the subject. Some of the Slytherins snickered at his facial expression.

He clapped his hands together and rolled back on the balls of his feet, "Now, I'd like to have you all describe the scents that are revealed to you. We're going to make a tally to find similarities and differences. You see, this potion not only provides the scents of potential people that attract us, but _things_ that attract us. That can be a useful tool for determining interests and strengths."

He pointed his wand at the chalkboard behind him which wiped itself clean in preparation for his list. He stepped back from the cauldron and clapped his hands once more. He smiled broadly as he said, "Form a line and we'll get started. Mr. Potter you're up first!"

Hermione found herself in the middle of the line behind Padma Patil and in front of Terry Boot. Padma was fidgeting, shifting from one foot to the other as she chewed at her bottom lip. Hermione felt she understood the other girl's apprehension, the task seemed rather invasive. Everyone would know your deepest passions if you were honest with what you smelled. The growing list of descriptions included things like flowers, foods, and an array of random items. Most things seemed typical and harmless.

"I'm a bit scared," Padma whispered.

Hermione lent forward to whisper back, "Me too." She tried to give her a hesitant smile, but felt her lips quiver slightly. The longer they stood in the room, the more pressure Hermione was feeling on her chest.

Padma looked a bit relieved with her affirmative response but pushed forward with her worries, "What if we smell something totally squelchy. Are you going to be honest?" Padma's thick dark brows were pinched together as she frowned at her own words.

"I think I will be honest. It's in the name of scientific assessment, I suppose. The statistics will be rather fascinating when we see the whole group's results," Hermione responded quietly. Padma's anxiousness was causing Hermione's own stomach to tense nervously. There were only two more people ahead of them in line.

"You'll both probably smell books or parchment," Terry joked behind them. Hermione mock glared at him, putting her hands on her hips as if to scold him.

"As long as I don't smell you Terry, I'll be fine," Padma said teasingly.

"Oh come off it, I'm a catch. It should be me worrying about you Patil, I won't know if it's you or your sister I am smelling," he crowed. Padma gave an exaggerated look of mock offense. Ron, who was standing behind Terry, barked out a laugh.

"Boot, stop while you're ahead mate," Ron advised seemed to relieve some of the tension as both girls let out small laughs. Padma rolled her eyes good-naturedly, sharing a lopsided smile with Hermione.

Hermione passed a gentle smile to Ron. He nodded at her as if to say, _you'll be alright_. Sometimes when he wasn't being a right git, he had his uses as a supportive friend. She turned back around as Padma hesitantly approached the cauldron, her hands balled into fists.

"Miss Patil?" Professor Slughorn inquired, holding his wand at the ready to jot down her responses. Padma inhaled deeply. The tension in her shoulders seemed to release as she exhaled.

"Freshly mown grass, ambrosia," Padma paused a moment, her brows furrowing. She inhaled deeply again then nodded, "Leather." She opened her eyes and turned to Hermione a look of utter relief on her face as Slughorn quickly made marks on the list. Leather and grass were both already included, but Padma's third scent was an original one.

"Sounds lovely," Hermione told the girl as she passed. Padma had often been her potions partner over the year as Ron and Harry always worked together. In previous years Neville had always been her partner, but he didn't get an OWL in the subject to reach the requirement for the course.

Padma nodded as a soft smile curved her lips. She glanced surreptitiously at Ron as she passed. Hermione's eyes widened as she realized that Ron often smelled of grass and leather after Quidditch practices. Her heart clenched, but she didn't know why. It felt like a slight loss had been dealt to her as though this only confirmed her best friend was meant to stay as such, _a friend._

"Are you ready Miss Granger?" The professor smiled expectantly.

Hermione swallowed around the hard lump in her throat, nerves quivering as she stepped forward. She was immediately overcome by a multitude of scents. It felt as though her heart was suddenly hammering out of her chest. Her skin flushed immediately and she gasped. It was almost painful to feel so flustered. She swayed with the dizziness of it.

"Aha!" Slughorn cheered. "Do you feel overwhelmed by the scents?" He asked enthusiastically. "Dizziness, heart racing, feeling hot and jittery?" Hermione nodded at his questions as her body continued to over-react.

"Turn around dear girl! Let everyone see the way the potion can affect the mind and body. This is truly fascinating stuff!" Hermione shivered as she felt herself being rotated toward her peers. If she wasn't already flushed she was sure that she would be glowing with mortification.

"The scents you have encountered are specific to one person only. Everyone can have a variety that attracts them. You may smell rose petals and lavender and that could apply to many potential suitors, but few people encounter a specific concoction meant for one person only," the professor explained to her and then turned to address the other students who were looking on with intrigue and excitement.

"Being in the same room as the individual that you smell in Amortentia can often overwhelm the senses as you receive input from the potion and the person's natural aroma. It's rather uncomfortable as it can throw your body into a heightened awareness that feels like a fight or flight response. It is however a foolproof way of finding the person you're attracted to most," the professor explained, laughing good-naturedly as if this wasn't the most humiliating experience of Hermione's life.

"If you wouldn't mind, please describe the way you feel and what you smell."

Hermione took a steadying breath, followed by two deep ones as she tried to parse out the scents engulfing her and the feelings that were rapidly overwhelming her. "Well, I feel…overcome. It's as though I'm under water, heavy with a sort of longing. My heart is hammering and I can't seem to slow it down. I feel warm, but almost painfully so. I'm dizzy, but in contrast things also seem sharp…"

"Fascinating! And the smell Miss Granger?" Slughorn implored.

She tried to calm her racing heart and heavy breathing, but it was to no avail. She inhaled deeply and felt the familiar static of her magic jumping anxiously at her fingertips. Her hands were balled into tight fists. She unfurled them when the static-buzz felt as though it were penetrating through her. Several of the students gasped as a jolt of magical discharge escaped from her extended fingers. She moaned at the harsh feel of it, painful and somehow pleasurable.

"What do you smell? Describe it for us."

She closed her eyes and inhaled once more. It felt like ecstasy and she was certain that the facial expression was probably clearly written on her face. Her insides felt as though she just leapt off an exhilarating high cliff into deep dark water. On each exhale the names of the scents seemed to seep out of her like devoted praises.

"Angelica," she softly sighed. The scent was woody but lenient, well rounded and somehow homey. She felt comforted and inhaled once more.

She honed in on a new scent and shivered as she released a heady reverent whisper, "Tea Tree". The fragrance seemed to caress against her skin with a mix of sharpness and smooth undertones.

She bit her lip, "Fresh broom polish." It was mixed with an aroma tangy, strong, and masculine. It was a man's sweat, fresh off the Quidditch pitch.

She felt warmth in her abdomen that began to seep lower as it pulsed. Her thighs were quivering with each inhale and exhale. The muscles in her limbs were shaking with tension. It was like the precipice between the rise and fall of an orgasm. She felt her hands betraying her as they gripped wantonly on the tabletop. She knew she must look horribly uninhibited, but she couldn't seem to stop herself.

"Dragon-hide leather. New…expensive," she gasped. She wanted to lay herself down in front of the man that smelled this way. Give her body unto him, whoever he was.

She whimpered, feeling her skin pebble with goose-flesh as the magic radiated off from her. She was going to drown, she was sure of it. She threw her head back and felt the magic burst through her fingers again. The pressure was growing greater within. Her body sunk onto the Professor's work-station, "Mint."

She moaned loudly and her eyes shot open piercing across the room with a driving heat. Her gaze connected with the molten mercury in Draco Malfoy's eyes. His normally marble tinted face was covered in a beautiful pale pink flush, lips red and parted, pupils dilated. His expression was filled with a sort of longing.

All at once she knew the object of her deepest passionate desires. He was affecting her beyond a doubt and he was staring back at her hungrily. A knowing smirk seemed to spread across his face as realization bloomed in his eyes.

"Okay, that's quite enough Miss Granger," the professor coughed nervously and then forcibly pulled her back, away from the Amortentia, away from the intoxicating high of Draco Malfoy.

Professor Slughorn released her, but she swayed on her feet and fell backward into the wall, gasping for breath. Tears sprung to her eyes as the reality of her mortal embarrassment seeped over her. She placed both palms against the wall to brace herself as she continued to shake. Humiliation covered her every pore and the tears fell sudden and rapid. She felt unhinged as her emotions suddenly hit her full force. She sobbed once and pushed her palms against her eyes.

"It's alright. It's alright, there, there," Professor Slughorn patted her head as he awkwardly addressed her, "Some say that removing yourself from the grips of Amortentia is akin to madness. It's a bit normal to feel emotional. It's normal to get a bit carried away with the carnal desires as well. Sorry Miss Granger, we were all a little enraptured with your apt descriptions. I should have pulled you away sooner. Any other notes to add?"

Hermione melted down to the floor, pressing her covered face toward the wall as she wept and quivered with residual energy. She tried to nod at his apologies, but couldn't quite manage it. Taking a deep breath, she opened her eyes and looked out toward the class. Most were staring at her with wide eyes. A few looked shocked, the majority looked captivated. Harry and Ron were both gaping at her. She couldn't look at Draco, so she resolutely stared at the floor.

She wanted to run as far away as possible, but found her body betraying her once more as she confessed, "It was like my body was heightened to the point of pure ecstasy on the verge of a stimulating explosion…pulling away felt like being plunged into eternal darkness. Suddenly all the emotions came crashing down. I feel like I nearly drowned."

"We surely all learned a great deal about Amortentia today. Ah, look at the time, I think we are just about ready for class to be dismissed," Professor Slughorn inelegantly noted, looking at his magical pocket watch with false cheer.

"Miss Granger, 100 points to Gryffindor for your honesty and dedication." The class suddenly jolted into life as everyone began chatting rapidly and collecting their things.

Padma, Harry, and Ron all rushed to Hermione's side as the Potions Master made himself scarce and promptly marched into his office without another word. Harry brought Hermione's satchel to her, handing it over nervously. She quietly thanked him, not quite able to look him in the eye.

"Blimey 'Mione, you alright?" Ron inquired with concern in his unsteady voice.

She was still quivering as he helped her fully stand. "I think I will be when the feelings of mortification leave me," she muttered back. Ron and Harry released short laughs.

"Just be grateful Fred and George weren't around for that. We'd never hear the end of it. All the sex jokes would drive us mental. I mean, blimey…" Ron released his words without finishing. Hermione looked up and saw the intense red on his ears and cheeks. He sheepishly rubbed the back of his head with one hand.

"Oh my word, I'd say that was the hottest thing I ever saw if I wasn't feeling second-hand shame on your behalf," Padma breathed shakily.

"Oh God, don't say that," Hermione begged, pressing a hand across her forehead. Her body temperature was beginning to lower to its normal state.

She looked up and caught Harry's eye. He smirked. "You have to admit Hermione. That was probably the most educational thing you have ever done for the male species." She gasped and hit him hard in the chest.

"Harry Potter!" she scolded.

Ron began to laugh alongside Harry, "Gosh we're never going to be able to look at her the same way again, are we? Here she's always been our best friend, like a sister to us Harry…now she's going to scar us for life when we dream about her."

Hermione moaned in horror, "Stop right there Ronald Weasley! Not another word from either of you."

Padma hit them both for good measure. Hermione found herself laughing at the absurdity of what had happened to her and the strange emotional trip between fear, lust, emptiness, and humor.

"At least we've made you laugh again," Padma assured.

* * *

The four of them exited the classroom and began to travel down the hallway toward the Great Hall. Hermione didn't know if she had the stomach for lunch, but she would at least try. Maybe it would help with some of the nervous energy that was still running through her veins.

Ahead of them a group of Slytherin boys were laughing raucously as Blaise Zabini affected an imitation of Professor Slughorn's voice, "100 points to Gryffindor, for providing us with enough material for all our naughty future wet-dreams!"

Just as Harry and Ron were angrily drawing their wands, Hermione took one look at Draco Malfoy. He was off to the side of the group, not saying anything. Instead he seemed to be in a daze. He looked much how she thought she must look.

Her heart clenched.

 _He knew_.

 _He_ knew that he was _her_ desire.


	3. Inferno

There was a collective murmur by the potions students that were still moving down the hallway. A few of the girls were shooting Blaise dirty looks. Harry and Ron surged forward to defend Hermione. Hermione’s heart beat rapidly. Did all the boys think that way about her? How mortifying, she thought.

She looked between Draco Malfoy, his Slytherin counterparts, Harry and Ron with wide eyes. It would be a train wreck if they all came to blows over this. Padma grabbed her arm quickly; Lavender and Parvati were standing aghast behind her. There was a cutting tension in the hallway. It shimmered around all of them invisibly.

“This is going to get out of hand fast,” Parvati said warily. Hermione numbly nodded as she continued to look between the various boys.

“Should we get Professor Slughorn?” Lavendar asked. Her voice was marked with nervousness. None of the girls responded; too busy cautiously watching the impending quarrel. Hermione realized a duel was likely.

“Don’t fuckin’ talk ‘bout her like that,” Ron growled. He’d made it to the group of Slytherin’s first, barreling at them like a bulldozer. He snapped his wand up into Blaise Zabini’s face, just inches from his nose. Ron’s fist was tight on his wand, knuckles white.

The Slytherin boys drew their wands in rapid succession. In a near mirror image Harry, Dean Thomas, and Terry Boot forced their way into the row, pointing their wands at the group in menacing stances. Blaise scoffed as he peered down his nose at Ron’s wand and then rolled his onyx colored eyes. His dark skin was smooth and unblemished. His calm demeanor completely juxtaposed with Ron’s fiery appearance and freckled red fury driven expression.

“Oh come on Weasley, don’t tell me you’ve never had a wet dream about the swotty little bookworm, bending her over a desk in the library,” he smirked. His voice dripped with disdain. The Slytherin boys all wore looks of clear disdain.

“And you Potter, she’s probably sucked you off a thousand times by now.” Hermione’s heart beat mercilessly at his hurtful words. Her throat constricted at the insult aimed to harm her and both of her closest friends. Goyle and Crabbe snickered and shot her lascivious looks.

Harry’s face pulled into an animalistic snarl that rather reminded Hermione of Sirius. “Fuck you Zabini,” he growled. Harry shook furiously, moving closer to his target. Zabini looked unfazed, perhaps even amused.

“I better get the Professor,” Lavendar said more firmly. She back-tracked toward the potions door.

“Faster Lavendar,” Parvati urged. The door boomed shut behind her friend. Padma and Parvati both pulled their own wands, marching toward the boys in unison. They looked rather terrifying when they paralleled each other’s stern stance. Hermione couldn’t bring herself to move in and assist. She felt frozen in place. It was so unlike her strong vibrant defiance. She felt oddly meek.

“Why would I fuck you Potter, when I could fuck Granger in my dreams?” Zabini laughed. His buddies burst into hysterics.

Hermione inhaled sharply in the millisecond before several spells burst forth from her friends. “Anteoculatia,” Terry Boot yelled, causing a pair of large antlers to emerge from Zabini’s head.

Dean produced a swift, “Calvario”. Theodore Nott’s hair rapidly fell out.

“Colloshoo,” Ron bellowed. Zabini’s trainers stuck to the floor as he tried to duck away from Ron’s next spell. Harry meanwhile abandoned all pretext and promptly punched the boy in the face. The rest of the boys circled round another like animals. They were shooting hexes and spells left and right. Some of which hit innocent students on the sidelines.

People began hollering and cheering the fight on. Hermione fell back into the stone wall, clutching at her stomach as a jet of water missed its mark and sprayed her instead. She stared across the fray, shocked by the ferocious nature of the continuing brawl. The spells were now growing hazardous. She angled to the right to avoid a bat-bogey hex.

She looked around, gauging he likelihood that she would be hit again. Draco was standing along the opposite wall, scrutinizing her. He seemed to be analyzing her reaction. Suddenly, Hermione’s attention was drawn away as Parvati and Padma’s wands released ropes, binding several of the boys together in an attempt to haul them all apart. Ron screamed in anger as he unceremoniously fell on his behind at Padma’s feet.

“Was she talking about you Potter or do you think she desires Weasley’s hairy ass?” Zabini goaded, blood flowing from his bruised face. Harry hauled back his fist, ready to punch the haughty expression off Zabini’s face once more.

Hermione had already drawn her eyes back toward Draco Malfoy. She watched as Draco pulled forward from the wall, his wand pointed directly in the middle of the hallway. Hermione couldn’t hear his spell, but the entire group of students suddenly blasted apart forcefully. Hermione hit her head roughly against the wall as she slid down to the cold floor. The spell was strong and had knocked her off balance. Tears sprung to her eyes, a result of the sharp pain at the back of her skull. She rapidly blinked them away as she looked up at him in shock. Some of the students were groaning in pain around her.

For a beat everyone stared up at Malfoy as he calmly stepped over his friends and smoothly walked to Hermione, his dragon-hide leather shoes clicking on the stone below his soles. He lent down and grasped her hands, pulling her to her feet. She was only a few inches away from him, standing nearly chest to chest. She breathed raggedly, the scent of Angelica and Tea Tree wafting into her nostrils as she did.

“I told you to hate me harder Granger, clearly it’s not working,” he said coolly.

Hermione smelled the fresh bite of his mint toothpaste. His nonchalant tone hit her in the gut like a ton of bricks. Her insides squirmed with tension and disbelief. He was acknowledging their mutual attraction in front of everyone. She bit her lip and shook her head softly in doubt.

“What are you doing Malfoy?” Ron demanded from his position on the floor.

A few of the bystanders were beginning to rise to their feet, now enthralled with Malfoy’s apparent undivided attention. He continued to stand just a few inches from her, head tilted down to catch her eyes with his own, body relaxed and composed. Hermione shivered under his gaze, unable to look away.

“Don’t humiliate me any further,” she whispered faintly, “Please.”

He hummed and shook his head as though non-verbally saying she was in denial. He raised his voice a bit louder, clearly uninterested in saving her additional embarrassment. “I told you the harder you hate me the more I’d want you. The harder I hate you, the more you’d want me. It’s a nasty little cycle isn’t it?”

A series of loud gasps followed his words. Hermione’s breath caught, her heart painfully paused, her throat constricted. She felt a bit faint. Almost queasy, in fact. She shook her head more firmly.

“I hate you Malfoy,” Hermione breathed.

“On the contrary, I think you want me desperately. Hunger for me, perhaps? My personal cologne – Angelica and Tea Tree, my expensive Dragon-hide shoes, my scent after a Quidditch match, the mint flavor you tasted from the candy I ate before I kissed you.” He paused and Hermione could hear the rumblings of rumors spreading through the watching crowd. She knew her face gave way to her hurt, spreading her pain clearly for him to read. She closed her eyes, feeling the prickle of more tears burning behind her eyelids.

“I’m your Amortentia,” he acknowledged, “And you’re mine.”

Hermione’s eyes shot open in confusion. “What?”

He leaned closer, his robes now billowing against hers. “Do you want to know what I smelled Granger?” He tilted his head and a grin spread across his cheeks.

“I smelled you.”

“You didn’t, you couldn’t have…you didn’t get a turn,” Hermione stated, voice touched with a strain of protest.

He released a short laugh, “Yes I did. I was early to class and I got the chance to look at the potion with the Professor when people were arriving.” Hermione stared at him with wariness.

“I smelled you. An orgasmic and distinct blend. Orange Blossoms, fresh parchment, old books, Argon Oil, and peppermint,” he admitted, “Just as you were when I kissed you.”

He bit his lip and hummed once more, a tone of pleasure. The type of noise one might make after the first bite of a delicious desert. His left hand rose to Hermione’s right cheek, cradling her face in his cold palm.

“It was divine, like riding a broom for the first time. Like standing on a cliff overlooking the ocean. I wanted to live with that scent wrapped around me forever.” His voice was like velvet to her ears.

“I told you that I get what I want Granger. I want you. These idiots have no fucking idea how you taste, how you feel,” he growled lowly, “Like your lips and your skin were dipped in honey.” Hermione could hear Professor Slughorn ambling into the hall, clearly having taken longer than he should have to arrive.

“Ecstasy,” Hermione spoke, halting Draco’s litany. She exhaled shakily and her mouth formed words without her mental permission. She felt irrational. What was happening here? She wondered if she was dreaming.

“Your smell was pure ecstasy. I could have let it consume me. I wanted to let it,” Hermione sighed. She still yearned for it, yearned for the burning that she had tried to ignore, the fire that his touch brought on.

Draco surged forward engulfing her in his flames; lips, teeth, tongue, hands - molding her, burning her alive.

He was an inferno and without a thought she gladly jumped into the firestorm.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! - Love, Fortunefaded


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